In Darkness We Must Abide: The Complete Second Season: Episodes 6-10 (42 page)

“I’m sorry,” Armando said and meant it.

“He was one of the first to die. You know Ben. He always protected his loved ones. As soon as he saw an opening to attack, he did. That white bastard killed him faster than I could blink an eye.” Tracy’s lips twisted, and she struggled to speak. “Zachery shoved me and Emily toward the back door. I saw Aeron kill him, too. I’m not sure how I got out of the house. It was chaos. But the second I was on the lawn, I just ran. Angel found me when I was halfway here.”

“He’s alive?” Relief filled Sheila’s eyes.

“He’s really messed up, missing an arm and a big chunk of his chest. He had to feed, so we separated. He should be here soon.”

“But at least you’re both alive. Do you think anyone else made it out?” Sheila gently rubbed Tracy’s shoulder.

“I don’t know. I wasn’t even sure where I was going at first. I was just running. Then I remembered where you said to meet.”

Armando again checked all the windows. He was uneasy that so many had escaped Aeron. It was rare for any vampire to escape a purge. “Maybe he let you escape.”

“Let me?” Tracy gaped at Armando. “Do you know how many people died while I ran? Emily was right beside me, then she was gone. I don’t even know what happened to her! I saw others running, too, but they were taken down. I have no idea how I made it out of there.”

“Which means he could have let you go...” Armando ran his fingers through his hair, trying to collect his thoughts. He had to avoid interacting with Aeron at all costs. If he saw or heard his Master, he would be caught in his power and unable to disobey.

Tracy shot him an incredulous look.

“Alexander and Vanora are here, too. We should go back to them. We need to fill you in on some things, Tracy,” Sheila said in a deceptively calm and soothing voice. Armando could still feel her fear pulsating around her thin frame, but the woman was trying very hard to be strong. He respected that fact.

When the small group rejoined the others in the kitchen, Alexander instantly rushed to embrace Tracy. Though Armando had been a part of Roman’s group, he wasn’t as close to the others. The time he split between Austin and Houston had kept him from forming closer bonds to the vampires Roman considered his inner circle. Watching Tracy and Alexander’s reunion reminded him that he was very alone. Roman was gone, Alisha was missing, and Vanora would soon be lost to him.

The young woman he loved so much was staring at him thoughtfully, her fingers playing with the straw tucked into her drink. Joining her at the table, he leaned over and pressed a kiss to her lips. Her lavender eyes focused on his face through the gloom, searching for answers.

“Everything okay?” Vanora asked.

“She’s just concerned,” Armando answered.

Vanora’s gaze shifted to the three vampires nearby. Tracy was tearfully recounting her escape while Alexander rubbed her back and Sheila held her close. Tears made Vanora’s lavender eyes shimmer, and Armando tenderly stroked her white-blond hair.

“Alisha is strong,” Armando said, feeling helpless.

“I can’t feel her,” Vanora replied. “And I don’t know what that means.”

It was difficult for him to decide if it was better to encourage Vanora to hope or to accept the probable truth. Instead, he remained silent.

“Emily did what?” Tracy exclaimed, her voice rising. “I don’t understand! She’s one of us!”

“I know it’s hard to accept, but we heard her confess,” Sheila answered. “She even told Aeron where Armando took Vanora.”

“To Greg?” Vanora stiffened.

Alexander bobbed his head, while Sheila answered, “Yes. She said you were looking for Carlotta.”

“Then we need to go to Carlotta’s right now.” Vanora started to search through her purse.

“What?” Armando’s voice mingled with Tracy and Sheila’s.

Pulling out the Google Maps printout, Vanora slid off the bench and stood. “Either Aeron killed my sister or he took her. I want to know which, and I’m going to find out.”

“You can’t,” Armando protested.

“Yes, I can.”

“We should run,” Sheila said.

“I agree. We should run and keep running,” Tracey added. “As soon as Angel gets here, we should get the hell out of Houston.”

“I’m not going,” Vanora answered with steel in her voice.

“Vanora,” Armando started.

“No, Armando. Don’t try to talk me out of it.” Vanora didn’t appear angry, just resolved. “Don’t you see? We’re not going to escape this. We can’t. It’s like this massive tsunami coming right for us. We can try to outrun it, but it’s not going to happen. The only thing we have any choice about at all is whether we face the coming storm or try to hide from it.”

“Vanora, you know why he wants you,” Armando said, attempting to snag her gaze with his own.

“So what? He has this horrible plan for me. Fine! But I’m not going to make it easy for him. Okay? I’m not going to run away and hide so he can find me anyway. I’m going to face him head on. He already took my brother, my home, and maybe my sister.”

“You’re not the only one suffering losses,” Tracy snapped. “I lost Ben. I lost Zachary and many other friends.”

“I’m sorry for that,” Vanora replied, obviously meaning those words. “I am so damn sorry. A lot of this has to do with me and this obsession Aeron has with me. I’m the reason so many are dead tonight. Which is exactly why I need to deal with this as soon as possible.”

“Why does he want you?” Sheila asked, her thin face seeming even paler in the gloom.

“To give birth to a new race of vampires,” Vanora answered simply.

“That’s ridiculous!” Tracy widened her eyes in disbelief.

“But he believes it to be true.” Armando collected his leather jacket and shrugged it on.

“You’re going to go to Carlotta’s? Really?” The look of disbelief on Sheila’s face was mirrored in that of her partner.

“If Vanora wants to go, I’ll go with her.” Armando dug the car keys out of his pocket.

Sheila seized Vanora’s hand. “You need to think this through.”

“How many of us are left alive?” Vanora looked at each vampire pointedly.

“Angel is coming,” Tracy said after a beat. “But I think he might be the last.”

“This is my fight. Not yours. You
should
run. All of you.”

“And Armando?” Sheila asked, her eyes watching Armando warily.

Armando tilted his head to meet Vanora’s gaze. If he went with her and Aeron was at Carlotta’s, all was lost. If he didn’t go, he would lose her anyway. He had no choice but to stand at her side until she pushed him away. Greg’s words from earlier haunted him. When Vanora had wondered aloud if the fact Roman had not turned her into a vampire as a sign that fate was conspiring against her, Greg had said something of great significance.

Just food for thought. Or thoughts for food. Get my meaning?

The meaning had been clear to Armando but most likely not to Vanora. Armando could still turn Vanora into a vampire, but it would mean killing her. That thought did not sit comfortably with Armando. It was one thing to drink from a victim, another to kill. Vanora would truly die, and her resurrection was not guaranteed. There were a small percentage of people who simply did not rise again. The reason for this was unknown.

“Well?” Vanora asked, meeting his look with one that was both pleading and defiant.

“Where you go, I go.”

The briefest of smiles flitted across her lips.

“You’re both crazy.” Sheila crossed her arms and glared. “Aeron might be at Carlotta’s waiting for you! Did you think of that?”

“Get out of Houston. When Angel gets here, just leave. I’ll try to stop Aeron,” Vanora said to Sheila. “I promise.”

“What makes you think you can? He wiped out nearly all of Roman’s vampires, and you’re just a human,” Tracy said, but not with malice. She sounded more concerned than angry.

Vanora shook her head sorrowfully. “You’re wrong. I’m not just a human. I’m a witch and the fulfillment of prophecy. Maybe I’m the only one who
can
stop him.”

How was it possible to be so proud of someone, while being absolutely terrified for them at the same time? Armando took Vanora’s proffered hand and squeezed it. Even if he lost her, he would always love her. Yet the hope within his heart could not be vanquished because he did love and believe in her. Had they come so far to be separated now?

“You’re really going to go?” Sheila took a step forward.

“I don’t have a choice.”

“Then we should go, too.”

“Sheila!”

“Tracy, I promised her sister to watch out for Vanora.” Sheila looked at Alexander, but he shook his head. Surprised, Sheila stared into Alexander’s eyes for a long moment, then nodded. “We’ll stay here and wait for Angel. Once you know something, call us and we can meet up.”

“I might still leave Houston,” Tracy said after a long, silent beat.

“You should,” Vanora replied.

“Someone should live through this,” Sheila said grimly.

“If we’re lucky, we all will.” Armando was done with the long goodbye. It was time to move forward and not cower in the darkness. Withdrawing the keys from his coat pocket, he looked into Vanora’s eyes and smiled at the determination he saw there. “Ready?”

She nodded.

“Wait,” Sheila called out, then reached into her jacket. She withdrew a makeshift stake and pressed it into Vanora’s hand. “A stake through the heart and decapitation. That’s how you kill us.”

Shoving the stake into her bag, Vanora kissed Sheila’s cheek. “Thank you.”

After one last wave to their friends, Armando guided Vanora out of the house and to the car.

*
* *

For the millionth time that night, Greg Brady, incubus and all-around seedy guy, swore he was done with vampires, werewolves, and ancient goddesses. Though it had been fun blowing the lid off of Aeron the White and Terrible’s plans for the delicate albino flower that Greg wouldn’t have minded plucking himself, the repercussions would most likely be dire. Over the last month, he’d sensed that his time in Houston was coming to an end, but without a resident Oracle to consult, he’d severely underestimated the time he had left. Since Sheila’s phone call earlier in the evening, he’d been rushing to wrap up his life in Houston and prepare for his next incarnation.

With a sharp tug on the bottom of his t-shirt, Greg pulled it down over his hairy, rounded belly and frowned at his computer screen. The sweet tangy scent of one of his dancers alerted him to the lovely young thing approaching his abode.

Candy was sweet but a little slower than the rest of the girls. She hovered in the doorway of the security office chewing on her bottom lip. “I don’t understand, Greg.” She held out her hand. A check dangled from the tips of her fingers. “You own the club? I thought you were security.”

“Yes. I do own it. Now take the severance check, grab your stuff, and go. Shoo, Candy-luscious.”

Once Greg had announced he was shutting down the club and sending everyone home with hefty severance checks, the bar staff had cleared out immediately, taking much of the booze with them. The resident deejay had gleefully grabbed his check and equipment and bailed.

Greg had expected the many zeros on the checks would make the girls happy, but a few had been frightened. Was he a drug runner? Were the cops going to come for them? Was the check really going to be cashed by their bank? What was going on? Was the mob involved? The questions had been fired at him as fast as he could blink. It had taken a lot of verbal fancy footwork to get him out of the dressing room and back to shutting down the club. Most of the dancers had tossed their things into a bag and ran off to deposit the checks. It was Greg’s harem that still lingered in the dressing rooms after the other dancers had departed. He could hear them chatting as they leisurely packed their things. He wished the girls would hurry up and leave. Greg was positive that Sheila wouldn’t rat him out to Aeron, but it didn’t hurt to be cautious.

“But where are you going?” Candy was still in her slutty school girl uniform costume, and her pink hair was pulled into pigtails on either side of her head.

“I’m going to go far, far away from here. You need to take your check and do the same.”

“Leave Houston?” Candy was very literal.

Greg finished sending emails to his lawyers and financial people, then proceeded to wipe the hard drive. Looking up, he shrugged. “Yeah. Sure. Why not?”

“With you?” Candy asked hopefully.

“Oh, no, my sweetness, not with me. You don’t want to be anywhere near me.” He flashed a toothy smile.

Fingers dragging along the splintered wood of the doorjamb, Candy frowned. “But I thought we’re special, you and me. I know you and the other girls have stuff going on, but we have a spark. Don’t you want me to go with you?”

Greg shoved his chair away from the desk and slid to his feet. Stretching his arms over his head, he felt his stomach pop out from under the hem of his shirt. The next time he molted, he needed to shave off a few pounds. “Candy-baby, you’re the most luscious bite of cotton candy I’ve ever tasted, but we’re two ships passing in the night, and this ship has got to get the hell out of town before it gets hit by a Katrina-sized hurricane.”

“Huh?”

Exhaling, Greg set his thick-fingered hands on his waist. He was hungry but didn’t have time for a roll in the hay to refresh his reserves. “I guess you need me to tell you this simply. Candy, it’s too dangerous for you to come with me.”

“So it’s the mob?” The flesh between her eyebrows puckered worriedly.

“Worse.”

“Worse? What’s worse? A cartel?”

Greg laughed. “No, no.”

“An ex-wife?”

Candy stared at him in confusion. Her eyes were lavender, but because of contacts, unlike the natural beauty of the albino witch. Briefly, he wondered if Armando, the Spanish bastard, had been smart enough to pick up Greg’s hint that he should turn Vanora into a vampire. He hoped to Lucifer the vampire would change her over. That would royally fuck up Aeron’s plans.

“No, no, Candy-cakes, nothing like an ex-wife.”

Fidgeting, Candy tugged on her bottom lip with her teeth. Greg usually found it endearing, but now it just agitated him. He was hungry but needed to hurry. Already he had wasted far too much time consoling his lovers and wiping away their tears.

“So, is there someone else?”

Greg arched an eyebrow. “Huh?”

“Someone that’s not one of us?” Candy’s eyes narrowed, and she jutted out her chin.

It wasn’t uncommon for his harems to be territorial. He’d been careful to keep his dalliances firmly among his coterie of lovers to avoid trouble. In the past, he’d learned that feeding outside his harem was dangerous for everyone’s health. One harem had been destroyed after he’d had a quickie when he’d been a bit hungry one day at a Yankees game. The woman had followed him back to his haven and burned it to the ground in a fit of jealousy when she’d discovered the harem. The expression on Candy’s face was disturbingly familiar. She was seething with anger and suspicion.

“Of course not! You girls are my only girls!”

“But you’re leaving us! How can you do that?”

“Like I said earlier, I’ve gotta move on due to some trouble. Honey, I don’t want to leave you.”

“But you are! You’re leaving and not taking us with you!” Candy threw the severance check at him. The bit of paper flitted about, lacking the drama Candy was probably hoping for, and landed at her feet. “You’re paying us off like we’re whores!”

Scratching his mustache nervously, Greg lamented the fact that he could never just make a quiet exit. Yes, he was an incubus, but he formed attachments to his harems. He didn’t love them, but they were delightful playthings and his food source. They were like sexy little pets. The few times he had snuck away in an attempt to avoid drama, his harems had either tracked him down with vengeance burning in their eyes or self-destructed in bloody violence. Life just wasn’t easy for an incubus. Usually, it was best if he could find an amicable way out, but if he was honest, that rarely ever happened.

“Candy, the truth is that I have to go, and I can’t take all of you with me. I’d love to, but I can’t. That’s why I gave you the money. So you can start over either here in Houston or somewhere else. I’m trying to take care of my favorite girls.”

“If we’re your favorite girls, does that mean there are other girls?” Tanya stepped around Candy and into view. Her impressive afro sparkled with gold glitter that matched her eye makeup and fingernails.

“Of course not! I’m a one harem kinda guy.”

“But that girl!” Britney joined the other two women. She had a sultry look that Greg loved. With her silky blond hair and pink pout, she reminded him of the classic movie star Veronica Lake. Instead of the playful smirk she usually projected, she wore a fierce glower. “That albino girl that came by earlier...who was she?”

“You have nothing to be jealous about!”

“Who was she?” Candy demanded. “Are you leaving us for her?”

“You did notice she was with her boyfriend, right?” Greg ran his hands over his gelled dark red hair. This was going to get nasty and very quickly.

Wendy, crimson hair falling around her tear-streaked face, pushed past the other women, clutching a piece of paper. “You’re leaving us for her, aren’t you? Is this her address?”

With a sinking feeling, Greg realized he had made a terrible mistake. He’d left his computer on and unattended earlier. “That’s no big deal. That address was for that girl and her boyfriend. I was doing them a favor.”

Wendy shook the paper at him, obviously ignoring his explanation. “Are you leaving us for her? We saw how you looked at her! Like she was something special!”

“Ladies, sugarplums, I’m a one harem man! You’re the ones who are special! Leaving you is killing me. Seriously, my heart is breaking into a million pieces.” Greg tensed, preparing to flee. He wanted to escape before things became violent. Over the years, he’d been beaten, stabbed, and shot. As a demon, he couldn’t be killed, only vanquished with magic, but it was never pleasant when he was on the wrong end of the violence stick.

“Then take us with you,” Candy demanded.

For a second, Greg considered possibly taking the women with him just so he could make it out of town without bloodshed but then dismissed the idea. The truth of the matter was that, though the incubus adored his little harem, he was also tired of them. It was like eating the same meal every day. It was time to move on to new cuisine. He would miss them and remember them fondly, but it was time to move on. It was best not to drag any of this out longer than he had to.

“I can’t. It’s too dangerous.” Greg touched Candy’s cheeks, her skin hot against his palms. He was growing hungrier and crankier. If only he had time for one last fuck. He was growing hungrier by the second.

Melting into his touch, Candy whimpered, “Please...”

“I see not much has changed about you,” a mocking female voice said.

Instantly, Greg grabbed Candy and Britney and shoved the women behind him. He was lunging for Tanya and Wendy when the shadows unfurled to reveal Lorelei. With a fiendish grin of delight, she dragged Tanya and Wendy out of his reach. When they started to struggle and cry out in protest, Lorelei’s fingers dug into their flesh, drawing blood.

“Tell your women to shut up, or I’ll break their arms.”

“Tanya, Wendy, just don’t move, okay?” Greg held out his hands in a placating motion.

Whimpering, Wendy complied, but Tanya tugged two more times on Lorelei’s grip before a loud snapping sound sent her to her knees. Sobbing, Tanya stared in horror at the splinters of bone sticking through her dark skin.

“I said I’d break your arm,” Lorelei said with a smirk.

“Lorelei, let them be. Your beef is with me.”

Lorelei tilted her head to one side. “Actually, my Master has a beef with you.”

Aeron appeared in the room, standing inches from Greg. His height forced Greg to crane his head upward to glare at the vampire.

Clad all in white, but speckled with drying blood, Aeron regarded Greg thoughtfully. “New face but same stench.”

Bristling, Greg dropped his hands and squared his shoulders. “Same old Aeron, I see. Full of his own shit.”

“It’s always so pleasant visiting with you,” Aeron replied with a chuckle that held no mirth. It was dangerous and cruel, just like the vampire’s amethyst eyes.

“Well, you know me. I’m one charming guy,” Greg answered with a fake grin.

Candy and Britney’s fingers scrabbled against his back as they hid behind him. In the dimly lit hallway, Lorelei held his other women captive. The sickly sweet smile on the angelic face of the female vampire was enough to make Greg want to smash it in. A steady stream of blood flowed from where Lorelei’s nails were buried in the succulent flesh of the women. Tanya groaned in pain, but Wendy was frozen in fear. Their desperate, silent cries for him to save them pulsed along the supernatural threads that tied them to him. It was intensely erotic and made Greg even hungrier as he spouted an erection.

The incubus licked his lips and forced himself to concentrate on the threat standing before him and not the delicious women. Aeron’s shrewd eyes were scrutinizing him. Gritting his teeth, Greg ignored his hunger, refusing to show weakness. It was insulting enough that Aeron had invaded his haven, but to look like a hungry, horny demon (even if he was one) in the presence of the vampire would be an embarrassing loss of face.

“So...why the intrusion, oh white and shitty one?” Greg folded his arms over his wide chest and glowered, letting his eyes flame to life. It was going to get messy soon, so he might as well prepare.

“Intrusion? Interesting word.” Aeron tapped the leg of the old desk with the toe of his blood-speckled boot. The computer monitor wobbled, and a pencil holder crashed to the floor. “It seems you’ve taken a step down. Rather shoddy place, isn’t it?”

“Times are tough. The economy, you know.”

“I wouldn’t know. I’m above such things.”

“Yet here you are! In my strip club manhandling my women. So again, pasty and nasty, why the fuck are you intruding in my territory?”

Aeron tilted his head downward to stare into Greg’s eyes. The incubus was immune to a vampire’s thrall, but it was still unsettling to feel the weight of that gaze.

“Demon, you’ve been intruding in
my
territory. You have been dabbling in my affairs. This does not please me.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Greg said with a shrug.

Aeron vanished from view. A second later, Candy gasped behind Greg. Whipping about, the incubus saw Aeron holding the pink-haired girl by her slim throat. The vampire’s long, white fingers were tipped in sharp nails that drew tiny beads of blood where they punctured the surface of the mortal’s skin. Britney pressed against the far wall, visibly trembling in terror. Though the harem knew Greg wasn’t human, he had never told them about the other dangerous creatures hiding in the shadows of the world. They were ill prepared for what was about to transpire.